


May in the Mide

by noeon (noe)



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Beltane, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-19
Updated: 2010-08-19
Packaged: 2017-10-11 04:19:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noe/pseuds/noeon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Beltane on the Finnegan estates. Harry stumbles across an unexpected ally as he flees the festivities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	May in the Mide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pearljamz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearljamz/gifts).



**May in the Mide: A Beltane Fable **

Harry stumbled as he hit the dark of the trees and paused, waiting for his eyes to adjust. The strong light of the bonfire was at his back, and he could smell the rich smoke and taste its tang in his mouth. Several couples had already trod the path down the hill before him if the sounds echoing through the wood were any indication.

The Portkeys had all arrived on Saint Patrick's Day, enclosed with an invitation to a houseparty and bonfire near Uisneach Hill. The thick parchment embossed with the Finnegan crest and a shamrock read Get Pissed. Get Shagged. Let's go a-Mayin' properly. To uninvited eyes, it looked like an extract from the Táin Bó Cúailnge.

Seamus had predicted everyone's mood perfectly. Nearly two years after the War to the day, they were all ready for a little celebration. The anniversaries of the first year had been wrenching and solemn, but now Wizarding society was healing itself and the repairs were obvious all around them; the seriousness and the austerity were yielding to a fragile optimism and even a sense of growth. The young survivors would continue to mark the anniversaries anew, but this year, they needed to let loose.

Which, of course, had led to this raucous night in Westmeath and its spectacles of drinking, singing, and merrymaking with obvious intent. Around the enormous double fires, well-shielded with magic, couples were forming in every corner. Neville and Lavender, Ron and Luna--the permutations seemed endless now that they were out of school, and each one was more surprising than the next, perhaps even to the couples themselves. Now that the rules about handfasting and a year and a day were no longer assumed, the participants could be a bit more carefree in their choices.

Harry wasn't exactly regretting coming, but he was near to. He was finding it hard to be festive or to be really certain what he wanted from the evening. He'd been happy to see friends, yes, but if that'd been all he'd wanted, he could have left after dinner. A pleasant, red-haired cousin of Seamus's had been following him all evening. She reminded him far too much of another attractive, red-haired girl who was home in Ottery St. Catchpole, expecting her first child. With Michael Corner.

Frankly, Harry'd had enough of red-haired girls, fair as they may be.

He clutched the bottle of Firewhiskey and moved deeper into the wood's shadows, keeping an eye out for movement and trying to afford what privacy he could to the night's enthusiasts. It was this scanning that led him ultimately to step too near to the underbrush and tread on something suspiciously soft that gave out a loud shout of "Ow!" followed by several muffled curses.

Dropping the whiskey in shock, Harry dropped to his knees and peered between the shadowy leaves. A glimmer of white blond hair and a familiar long-nosed profile caught the light. Harry squinted a bit before realising that there seemed to be only one cursing occupant in the brush.

"For Christ's sake, Potter, must you lumber about like a giant ape?"

"Sorry, Malfoy. I obviously couldn't see you there." Harry gritted his teeth. The scorn of that particular voice raised his hackles like no other. "What are you doing crouching under the bushes?"

"Probably the same thing as you." Draco looked pointedly at the bottle of Firewhiskey whilst rubbing his trodden-upon ankle. "Hiding."

"I see. Well, I'll just leave you to it then, and find another spot."

As Harry was standing up, Draco said, with a peeved sigh, "Potter."

Harry stooped down again. "Yes?"

"You might at least share the whiskey after causing injury."

Which is how Harry found himself in the underbrush with Draco Malfoy, drinking from a bottle of Ballymore Dew and smoking Draco's Virginia cigarettes.

"Who are you hiding from?" Harry asked after they'd emptied at least a third of the bottle in near silence.

Draco shrugged and took one last long drag on his fag. He blew the smoke into Harry's face before grinding it out into the dirt beneath them. "Pansy. She has someone she wants me to meet. I think it's Daphne's little sister."

Harry took another swallow, the liquid pooling in fiery clarity on his tongue and etching a warm trail down his throat. "I see."

"And you?" Draco reached for the bottle, wiping his blond forelock out of his eyes with the back of a slim hand as he took a long drink.

"Seamus's cousin, Niamh." Harry sighed.

Draco nearly spit out his whiskey. He swallowed with effort, then coughed. Harry pretended not to notice until he got his voice back. "Niamh? She's more bent than Seamus is!"

Harry's eyes narrowed. "That's odd. She's been following me around all evening."

Draco's comment was lost in the crackle of twigs near them and the suddenly jarring sight of Seamus and Dean, trousers open, shirts flying, crashing against a tree not ten feet from them. "Shit!" came the curse from Dean before Seamus pulled him into what was obviously another fiery kiss.

Harry sucked in a breath, silently thankful they'd stubbed out their cigarettes. He and Draco watched in stunned and then appreciative silence as Dean and Seamus groped and mouthed and ...

They turned away as Dean knelt before Seamus, whose cock jutted enormously pale and blatantly hard in the shadowed light.

Not looking at each other, nor at the couple before them--well, much, as they both kept glancing out the corners of their eyes--they kept perfectly still. Draco mumbled a spell as Seamus's groans grew louder and suddenly the world was much quieter.

Harry kept his eyes locked to the ground. "Should we move?"

"No," Draco snapped under his breath. "Unless you'd care for them to realise we've been watching them."

They both glanced back to the couple against the tree who were both standing again, lips locked, trousers open, hand gripping each other's cocks.

"Shit." Harry swore under his breath.

"I know," Draco said. "They're both hung like Hippogriffs."

Harry opened his mouth, but nothing came out for a second. Then he started to laugh, stifling his amusement with a fist pressed to his mouth. Draco just watched him, a curious faint smile twisting his lips.

"And here I thought I got away from watching them by moving out of Gryffindor." Harry swallowed back another laugh.

"Lucky you." Draco's eyes were on Harry's face now, scanning thoughtfully.

Seamus grabbed Dean by the wrist, and the two lovers disappeared from Harry's field of vision.

Draco tapped another cigarette into his palm and lit it.

Through the haze of the quieting spell, Harry could still tell that the wood had filled with people – there were muffled sounds of activity all around them.

"It's getting a bit crowded in here, isn't it?" Harry said after another mouthful of whisky.

"We're trapped," Draco intoned ironically, an expression of mock horror on his face, his hand raised to his forehead dramatically.

"Let's..." Harry stopped. He wasn't sure what he should suggest.

Draco exhaled a plume of smoke delicately. "Yes?"

Harry watched Draco's lips, all thoughts deserting him. He looked up into studied blandness of Draco's face. Draco arched an eyebrow, as if in challenge, and Harry launched himself at him, hands grabbing the folds of black wool at Draco's shoulder, his only determination to wipe that mocking expression off of his face. And then...

Well, then.

Draco met Harry's mouth with his own, throwing his cigarette into the dirt and grabbing Harry's shirt in his fist. Harry sucked hard, tasting the bitter tang of tar, whiskey, and Draco.

As they grappled fiercely, Harry's teeth knocked Draco's lip. Draco pulled back, his eyes bright. He touched his lip carefully with his fingers, tracing the swelling.

"God, I'm sorry," Harry said, not really meaning it. His fingers were still twisted in Draco's robe, the wool soft against his skin.

"Shut it, Potter," Draco retorted, and he kissed him hard.

Despite the protection of the spell, they were both silent as they fumbled in each other's clothes, rolling for leverage in the undergrowth. Harry's knuckles brushed the buttons on Draco's trousers, trailing across the large bulge below. Draco worked his hand into Harry's jeans. Harry thought he would swallow his tongue as Draco's fingers parted the layers of cotton and closed around heated flesh. "Oh, fuck," he choked out.

Draco's face took on a downright fiendish look. He leaned closer. "Yes," he murmured, just before he swallowed Harry's straining cock.

Harry threw his head back, seeing stars where there were none. The coldness of the night wind and the warmth of Draco's lips and tongue set him gasping.

When Draco pulled back, Harry protested with a groan. His breath coming in quick, short pants, he watched as Draco sat up and patted the ground, which was covered with their robes and various pieces of cast-off clothing.

"Shit, where's my wand."

"In your pants, Malfoy." Harry didn't bother to hide his exasperation. His wet prick was cold in the night air. "What the hell are you doing?"

Draco shot him a sharp look, producing a foil square and a small bottle from his robes. "We'll have to go Muggle, I suppose."

"What you do you have, a concealed pocket?" Harry shivered at another gust of wind. His bravado was beginning to desert him, but not the obvious evidence of his lust. "No, don't tell me. I don't even want to know."

"I'm prepared for everything," Draco said, flashing a wolfish grin. His blond hair tumbled into his face as he wriggled out of his trousers. Harry's mouth was suddenly dry.

On his knees, white shirt hanging open and Slytherin tie undone, Draco gripped the base of Harry's prick and smoothly unrolled the latex sheath over his shaft. Squeezing lube into his hand, he reached behind himself.

Harry closed his eyes. "Uh, Malfoy, I..."

"I'm quite aware you've never done this before, Potter."

Harry's heart almost stopped. He could feel his face warm. It wasn't as if he hadn't traded all sorts of sexual favours with various men in the last months, but he'd been working his way up to this. The fact that Draco bloody Malfoy of all people could tell was utterly mortifying, but somehow Draco's calm, blunt demeanour kept Harry from jumping up, grabbing his clothing, and running. Well. That and the promise of what Draco was offering.

"Worry not, I've enough experience for the both of us," Draco continued easily, his diction slightly less crisp after all the whiskey. "Really, it's just like riding a broom, and everyone knows how well you do that, so we should be fine."

Following Draco's instructions, Harry lay back against the ground. After a few jabs in tender spots, he finally found a comfortable place between the roots.

And suddenly it didn't matter what was jabbing him in the back because Draco was over him with a gleam in his eye. Harry rocked his hips. Draco scowled and barked, "Stop."

Harry did. Draco reached behind him, his fingers curling around Harry's prick, positioning him. He took a deep breath. "Better," Draco murmured.

Harry held himself perfectly still as Draco slowly sank onto his cock, biting his lip.

Harry forgot to breathe.

With a shift of his hips, Draco impaled himself, inch by glorious inch. Harry gasped, mouth open, and Draco stopped for a moment. "Okay there?"

Harry nodded, resting a hand on Draco's thigh. He didn't trust his voice.

Draco moved.

"Fuck," Harry choked out, but he stayed still with Draco's hand anchoring his hip. He closed his eyes, his body shaking.

There was utter quiet in the wood around them--Harry couldn't hear a thing but the pounding of blood in his ears and his own, tortured breath.

After a bit, Draco said, "Okay. Now you move."

Harry opened his eyes, and his jaw dropped. Added to all the sensations, the sight of Draco stretched above him was staggering.

With a small smile, his hair tumbling forward across his flushed cheek, Draco rose in a long, fluid curve, then descended on his knees. Harry tried to match the pace, following Draco's hand signals and nonverbal warnings and encouragements. Draco panted above him. Sweat gathered under Harry's neck and Draco's torso took on a pale sheen as they rocked, faster, more roughly and with greater need.

Digging his fingers into Draco's hips, Harry stopped trying to be quiet, stopped worrying about what he was doing and how – everything was their bodies together and the gasps from Draco's lips and the warm, solid pull of their joining. Anything outside of that be hanged.

Harry grew bold enough and rolled them over. Draco complained about the roughness of the ground beneath their cloaks, but spread his thighs eagerly, wrapping his ankles around Harry's arse as Harry thrust into him.

His hands sliding damply across Harry's shoulders, Draco keened and then swore softly. Harry paused for a moment, unsure.

"Don't you fucking dare stop now, Potter," Draco panted, his eyes fully wide in the dim light. "I'll kill you my-"

"Shut it, Malfoy," Harry said with a particularly sharp thrust of his hips, and Draco's eyes closed, his back arching. He cried out as Harry fucked him, begging Harry to move faster, harder, and Harry leaned down to kiss him. Draco bit desperately at his lips, moaning and then shouting as the warm stripe of his semen splashed across their chests.

The field of magic danced all around them. Harry could smell their bodies mingling with new earth and green and fire; he could tell he was losing control, taking the quieting spell and all of the surrounding magic with him. A spinning humming golden force started in his chest as he plunged into Malfoy and he cried out. Waves of energy rippled out through the dark wood and the ground shook underneath them.

There were outraged squawks and startled voices everywhere. Choruses of "What the hell was that?" follow by answers of "Who the fuck cares? Keep GOING."

Draco and Harry lay absolutely silent, ears pricked to the groans and soft sounds all around them. Harry's body was still convulsing, and he was seized in shivers. He draped himself over Draco until Draco shifted beneath him. "You're crushing me, you great oaf," Draco said, and Harry rolled to the side.

Harry found his wand and banished the condom. Draco had goosepimples, so he cast warming and ground cushioning spells. As he lay back down, Harry wrapped the cloaks around them awkwardly.

A moment later, Draco laughed."Well, that was something. Can't take you out into the woods without an uproar."

Harry drew the cloaks closer around them and threw his arm over Draco. "Hush," he murmured sleepily.

The blue light before dawn found Draco on his hands and knees with Harry well placed between them.

Afterwards, Draco lay on his side, nestled against Harry. "Don't think you're getting me to handfast. I'm a bit young for that."

"As if I like you that much," Harry muttered into the soft white blond strands at Draco's nape.

"You do, don't you?" Draco's voice was laced with smugness.

Harry did.

And then it seemed to Harry as though he blinked his eyes and there was mid-morning light. His stubble was rough; there were twigs in his hair and a sour taste in his mouth. And none of it mattered next to the sullen, mussed glory that was Draco Malfoy in the morning.

As they dressed awkwardly in the now empty wood, Draco maligned Harry's skill with cushioning spells and swore loudly about his bruises, until Harry offered to give him more immediately.

"Not now, you brute. Everyone's at breakfast already and I'm sure we've been missed." Draco's look was scolding as he said the grooming spells to bring them both into some semblance of order--"Because we KNOW you don't know any of these"--but his eyes held amused promise.

Harry took Draco's hand as they walked across the field to the large stone house. He thought for a moment Draco might pull away. Instead his fingers curled lightly around Harry's. When they entered the dining room together, they were greeted with catcalls and laughter by the warm, rowdy crowd of friends who shoved mugs of strong tea and plates overflowing with food at them the moment they seated themselves at the enormous blond wooden table.

Seamus confided to the entire room that he and Dean had searched far and wide until they'd found the bush that Harry and Draco were in.

Draco set down his fork and daubed at his lip with his napkin. His nostrils flared.

"I'd already seen that show most of sixth year," Harry said, before Draco could open his mouth. "Why repeat it for our benefit?"

"You needed a good example to prime the pump," Seamus shot back with a lewd hand gesture.

Harry turned bright red and Draco laughed.

Pansy and Niambh stumbled in with sleepy smiles on their faces and necks full of bite marks. Seamus beamed at his cousin. "Good night?"

She flipped two fingers at him and yawned. "Tea. Now."

Pansy shot a satisfied smirk at Draco and Harry, who just looked at each other.

"Next time we could use a bed," Harry offered.

"And get new friends," Draco said waspishly.

Harry grinned at him. "I'd say they're more than good enough." Draco just sniffed and lifted his mug of tea.

And so the May was declared properly rung in, poles and fast hands and all.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for HDS_Beltane 2010. Many thanks to thisgirl_is and my ineffably cool betas, femmequixotic and nurse_darry.


End file.
